


when it lasts

by regardinglove



Series: WIL!Verse [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Coach Katsuki Yuuri, Comedy of Errors, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, King Victor Nikiforov, Light Angst, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Modern Royalty, Social Media, Yoiroyaltyweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-09 02:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/regardinglove/pseuds/regardinglove
Summary: Boyfriend.That word has been enough for so long now, has withstood late-night Skype calls and nine-hour time differences and short-lived visits. It’s held up against their lightest days and their darkest nights, has gotten them through ridiculous paparazzi accusations and bad tabloid takes. It has been whispered under the softest of breaths and proclaimed in the loudest of voices. It’s been an anchor for both of them, ever since their first kiss in a dingy, run-down airport.But now, it’s time to move forward. It’s time to turnboyfriendintofiancéintohusband.It’s time to make Yuuri his partner, in name and bond and title.It’stime.It’s been three years since King Victor fell fast and hard for his Yuuri in the sleepy, seaside town of Hasetsu, and the time has finally come to pop that ever important question. However, asking Yuuri to marry him is easier said than done, especially when all the forces of the universe seem to be working against him. Will King Victor be able to overcome the obstacles in his way and make his beloved his betrothed, or will he be crushed by the powers that be?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Sorry it's been a thousand years since I've posted a new fic. Grad school really took its toll on me this semester and I found my energy levels depleted greatly. However, I'm hoping to get back into the swing of things with this! When It Lasts is the sequel to my most recent fic, While It Lasts, so I would suggest reading While It Lasts before reading this if you want to understand the context of Victor and Yuuri's relationship + some easter egg references! I had a lot of fun writing this for YOI Royalty Week on Tumblr and am excited to be able to finally start posting (I was not able to post during the actual week due to a rough week at work). 
> 
> Each chapter corresponds to a prompt from YOI Royalty Week. My plan is to post 2x a week until all of the 7 chapters are completed (my goal is to post on Saturdays and Wednesdays as those are my most "free" days of the week).
> 
> I'd like to thank my lovely wife [Robbie](http://thehobbem.tumblr.com) for beta-ing this fic and cheerleading me on through the writing process! I never would've found the courage to post this without her unending support and praise. 
> 
> Thank you ahead of time for reading! Cheers!

**A NIGHT TO REMEMBER? KING PLAYS COY WHEN ASKED ABOUT ROYAL BALL**

Imogen Lancaster

All eyes are on His Majesty King Victor as he prepares for the ball of the century. Diplomats, prime ministers, princes and princesses from across the globe will gather for a night of dancing and socializing in the grandiose Glacia Castle. It’s surely a night for the ages, and perhaps not only because of the star-studded guest lineup. King Victor just celebrated his three year anniversary with boyfriend Yuuri Katsuki last month, and it’s rumored that the two have been discussing wedding plans.

When asked about it at a press conference last week, however, King Victor played coy.

“Yes, it is true that I just spent a romantic week in Hasetsu with Yuuri. We spent a lot of quality time together and celebrated our love, but I promise there wasn’t a secret wedding or anything… at least, not this time.”

Hm, makes one wonder what _tonight_ will entail. Will Glacia have a new member of the royal family when the clock strikes midnight? Only time will tell, but in my opinion? I think we can bet on seeing some #adorableaf engagement photos in the near future.

* * *

“No, I said to put that glass swan in the _middle_ of the ballroom, not on the outskirts! And who decided on everything being red and orange? It’s spring, not fall; everything should be in shades of pink and green. Also–”

“Whoa, what’s with you?” Mila questions as she slides up to his side. “It’s not like you to get picky over peony colors.”

Victor pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a sigh. “I know, I know, but everything has to be _perfect_.”

“Why?” Mila asks. “Last time I checked, you thought these balls were boring and useless. You practically announced that to all of the guests last time,” she reminds him with a wink.

“Ugh, please don’t bring that up, I was a teenager.”

“Oh, not _just_ a teenager. You were a teenage _prince_ who passed off champagne as sparkling cider. You got so drunk that you called everyone at the party dusty old assholes.”

“Mila–”

“You said that Duke Jean-Jacques was an obnoxious pigeon.”

“Mila, please—”

“You almost broke five crucial Glacian alliances. Your father wouldn’t let you live it down for _months_.”

“Oh my god,” Victor groans. He walks towards the stairs and plucks the offending flowers from the railing garland, gathering them up in his arms. “Listen, that was a long time ago,” he says over his shoulder. “Things are different now.”

“Oh, are they?” Mila trails after him, practically nipping at his heels as he brushes past servants with trays of pastries and bottles of ruby red wine. She snags a mini cupcake and ungracefully licks the frosting off before tossing the rest into a nearby trash can. “Just a few months ago you were rolling your eyes at Yakov’s suggestion to bring back the King’s Masquerade. Now you’re acting like this will make or break your entire life. What gives?”

Victor hands over the discarded flowers to one of the frantic looking florists and shoves his hands into his pockets. She isn’t entirely off; he has never been keen on these huge, extravagant parties. They’re always filled with stick-in-the-mud politicians, aging diplomats, and his father’s advisors who still look at him like he’s a child. It’s the reason the palace hasn’t hosted a ball since his father’s passing; Victor never saw any use for one.

That is, until he needed a backdrop to ask the most important question of his life.

Mila is right; he still doesn’t enjoy these grandiose affairs, but for this one time, this one night, he needs every ounce of extravagance he can get. You only propose once, and Yuuri deserves the most beautiful, out-of-this-world proposal anyone can imagine. What better way to ask Yuuri to marry him than after a night of dancing under the glistening stars, dizzy with champagne and dressed in their best attire?

He can’t think of a better way. That’s why tonight has to go _perfectly_ , not a flower or centerpiece out of place.

“It’s not good to keep secrets,” Mila singsongs behind him.

He spins around so he’s facing Mila head on. She’s looking like the cat that caught the canary, with that roguish look dancing across her face: lips pulled up into an amused line, hip cocked out to the side, blue eyes gleaming behind strands of her fiery red hair.

Victor waves her off with one hand and makes his way towards the line of kitchen hands who are waiting around for their next assignment. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Babicheva.”

“C’mon, tell me!,” she whines, stepping into his path. “I can keep a secret; it’s my job, you know.”

“Please,” Victor snorts. “Last time I told you a secret you spilled it to the entire kitchen staff within an hour!”

“Only because that surprise birthday cake you made for Yuuri was inedible! I was just saving your boyfriend from faking a smile and eating your curdled frosting.” She raises an eyebrow at him and says, “Whatever it is, I promise I won’t tell a soul. Really.”

He smiles to himself and lets out a soft, single laugh. It’s funny, Mila is his head of security, the one who would throw herself in front of a bullet if it meant that it’d keep him out of harm’s way. But times like these, with her pouty attitude and need for castle gossip, it’s almost as if she’s his little sister.

Which is why he, inevitably, caves.

“Fine, come with me,” Victor says, then leads her out of the ballroom and back into the winding hallways of the castle. They traverse up a set of stairs, past the terrace entrance, through the main entryway, until finally coming to a stop at Victor’s bedroom.

“Wow, inviting me into your quarters? Quite scandalous, Your Majesty,” Mila teases.

Victor rolls his eyes at her and opens the door. “Sorry to disappoint you, Miss Babicheva, but I’m a happily taken man.” He makes his way across the room and slides open his dresser drawer, pulling out a small, black velvet box. “And if everything goes according to plan, after tonight I’ll be taken _permanently_.”

Mila audibly gasps and brings his hands up to her lips. “What?! No. You’re gonna do it?” When he nods, her eyes light up and she jumps up and down before squealing “That’s amazing!”

He laughs lightly and flicks open the box, revealing a shiny, perfectly polished golden ring with two snowflakes engraved into the metal. “The plan is to ask him during the ball tonight, under the stars after a romantic dance,” Victor explains. He pauses, glances up at Mila as he snaps the box shut. “Do… you think he’ll say yes?”

“Are you really asking me that?” she says. “Victor, it’s Yuuri. He’ll say yes before you can even finish popping the question. You have nothing to worry about.” A ding from Mila’s phone chimes and she pulls it out of her pocket. “Oh,” Mila says, her mouth forming an ‘o’ shape. “And speaking of Yuuri, it looks like his plane just arrived.”

Victor’s pulse goes into double time at the mere mention of Yuuri and his cheeks heat. “I’ll just grab my jacket and we can go pick—”

“Oh no you don’t! Last time you went with, the paparazzi almost caused a national security scare trying to get pictures of you two. No, you’re staying right _here_.”

“But Mila,” he whines.

“Don’t _but Mila_ me!” she scoffs. “It’s for your own good and you know it. You’ll see your boyfriend at the party tonight and that’ll have to be good enough.”

“What? The airport is only thirty minutes away! It’s not going to take you five hours to get Yuuri back here.”

“Hm, yes, that is true, but you see, I have _plans_.” She pockets her phone and turns on her heel. “Plans that are _so_ much better now that I know you’re proposing.”

“Wait! What do you mean by that? Mila? Mila! Come back!” Victor whines.

“Not a chance! Don’t worry, Your Majesty. I’ll bring your boyfriend back in one piece!”

And with that Mila is gone, rounding the corner and out of Victor’s line of sight.

He can’t help it: a wide smile crosses his face. _Boyfriend._ That word has been enough for so long now, has withstood late-night Skype calls and nine-hour time differences and short-lived visits. It’s held up against their lightest days and their darkest nights, has gotten them through ridiculous paparazzi accusations and bad tabloid takes. It has been whispered under the softest of breaths and proclaimed in the loudest of voices. It’s been an anchor for both of them, ever since their first kiss in a dingy, run-down airport.

But now, it’s time to move forward. It’s time to turn _boyfriend_ into _fiancé_ into _husband_. It’s time to make Yuuri his partner, in name and bond and title.

It’s _time_.

With that in the front of his mind, Victor takes off towards the servant quarters with new requests ready to be made.

 _This night will be flawless_ , he thinks to himself. _I won’t have it any other way._

* * *

It’s hard enough not being near Yuuri for eighty percent of the year, but it’s even harder being in the same building and _still_ being forced apart. He’s tempted to go looking, put aside his grievances about color schemes and pastry flavors and track down the man he’s doing all of this for. But at the end of the day he knows it’ll be of no use. Mila’s a trained agent; if she doesn’t want Victor to know where Yuuri is, he’ll never find out.

Instead of going on a fruitless mission, Victor bides his time by working out the last details of the ball instead. By the time all is said and done, no garland is out of place, no flute of champagne is empty. Fairy lights bathe the ballroom in a warm glow, much like the night he watched Yuuri dance on the ice. The orchestra is ready to go, warming up in the corner and ready to play Yuuri’s program music when the time is right.

The perfect set-up to his brilliant, foolproof plan.

Before he knows it, he’s changed into his formal attire (Mila insisted he wear his white suit with his matching feather mask for the party) and the guests are being announced. Madame Baranovskaya of the Bolshoi Ballet arrives first, looking as stern and elegant as ever in her canary-yellow pantsuit. Prince Mickey and his sister Princess Sara arrive next, accompanied by their family friend Duke Emil. Diplomats, kings and queens, presidents, all arrive in a flurry, one after the other walking down that grand staircase and greeting Victor with a peck on the cheek or the firm shake of the hand. He tries his best to show interest in them all, ask about their families and work and lives, but there’s an anxious energy growing inside of him, one that will only be satisfied when Yuuri’s hand is in his.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long before the name he’s been waiting for comes, loud and booming.

“Announcing Mr. Katsuki Yuuri.”

Victor’s eyes immediately flick to the top of the stairs and, no. That’s not _fair._ Yuuri looks like he stepped out of a spy film, an agent on the prowl for his next target. Black pants compliment a matching black jacket, one that is embellished with chunky rhinestones that glitter in the fairy lights. His hair is pushed back out of his eyes, which look striking against the silver mask he’s wearing. And, on top of it all, when he saunters down the stairs and stands in front of Victor, he finds that Yuuri is wearing eyeliner, of all things.

_Bless Mila Babicheva._

“Hi,” Yuuri says in a soft voice, leaning forward to take Victor’s hand in his. “Been a while.”

“That, my dear, is an understatement,” Victor says as he leans forward and pecks a kiss onto Yuuri’s chapped lips. “Two months without you was _awful_.”

“Agreed,” Yuuri replies. “Yuuko was ready to kick me out of Ice Castle because I wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

Victor laughs. “Likewise. Yuri almost shoved me down the stairs last week when I wouldn’t get off the phone with you.” He settles his gaze on Yuuri and smiles softly. “But here we are, together for two whole months.”

Yuuri sighs and mutters, “Still not long enough.”

He wants nothing more than to refute that, pull out the ring and ask him to stay forever right there, but he tightens his lips and steels himself. No deviating from the plan, not after everything he’s done for it. So, instead of ruining his master proposal, he gestures to Yuuri’s outfit and says sweetly, “By the way, you look fantastic.”

“Uh, thanks,” Yuuri blushes. “It was all, uh, Mila’s idea, to be honest. I was basically told to be quiet and let her work her magic.”

“Then I better give her a raise, because you look downright alluring.” He leans forward and rests his lips near Yuuri’s ear. “If I weren’t the host of this party, I’d take you upstairs and have my way with you right now.”

“ _Vitya_ ,” Yuuri hisses, “you can’t just _say_ that!”

Victor lays a hand on Yuuri’s lower back and leads them out onto the vacant dance floor. “But Yuuuuuri,” he whines, “you look so good! How can anyone resist you?”

Yuuri rolls his eyes at that and flashes an amused grin. “What about you?” he asks as he takes Victor’s hand in his and pulls him close, swaying them both to the soft music that is lolling over the crowd. “Do you see the way your guests are looking at you? I’d bet any one of them would go home with you if asked.”

“Hm,” Victor hums, “then I guess it’s a good thing I already have plans.” He pulls Yuuri in closer and lets his lips brush across his ear. “Plans that involve wrecking my beautiful boyfriend with only my ton—”

“ _God,_ Victor, could you be more disgusting?!”

Victor freezes and immediately steps back, turning on his heel. “Ah, look who decided to join us,” he says brightly, corners of his lips perking up into a heart-shaped smile. “I haven’t seen you all day, Yura!”

Yuri levels a frosty glare at Victor and blows a flyaway piece of hair from his eyes. “That’s because you were too busy pining after your boy toy.” He turns towards Yuuri and raises an eyebrow. “‘Sup, Katsuki,” Yuri mumbles under his breath.

The blush is raging across Yuuri’s cheeks, but that doesn’t stop him from flashing a tiny smile and whispering, “Nice to see you again, Yuri.”

“Yeah, you too,” he mutters backs, then shakes his head before pointing an accusatory finger at Victor’s chest. “But _you_ , keep your dick in your pants for all of our sakes, _god_!”

“Oh c’mon, I wasn’t that bad, was I?” Victor whines, but Yuri is already stomping away, grabbing two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter and storming off towards the kitchen.

Victor sighs. “Oh Yura, what are we going to do with you?”

“Give him time,” Yuuri says as he wanders up to Victor’s side, pulling him back into their interrupted dance. “Even if he’ll never admit it, you basically raised him. Imagine if you heard your father talk that way about someone. What would you think?”

A shiver runs through Victor at the image. “I would want to wash my ears out with bleach.”

Yuuri laughs, soft and tiny before brushing a kiss against Victor’s cheek. “Exactly.”

Victor grumbles and guides them back into their earlier sway, fingers carefully carding through Yuuri’s hair. “I guess it was a bit… much,” he replies.

“Now, I wouldn’t say that,” Yuuri says, narrowing his eyes and whispering, “I’d be _delighted_ to get wrecked by your tongue tonight, Vitya.”

He hisses and tightens his grip on Yuuri. “Are you positive we can’t get away right now?”

“Afraid not, _Your Majesty_ ,” Yuuri teases. “You have a duty to fulfill, as do I.”

“Oh, and what is that?”

Yuuri smirks and nuzzles into the space between Victor’s neck. “Dancing with you until we can’t anymore?”

Oh, _oh_. Victor’s heart flutters in his chest, familiar and warm against his ribcage at Yuuri’s words. Will there be a day when Yuuri doesn’t have this effect on him? A day when holding the man he loves in his arms won’t make him want to smile as wide as he can? With Yuuri carefully swaying them to the low crooning of the band, lips brushing sensually against his neck, it seems unlikely, which is just fine with Victor. He’ll take a lifetime of mini heart attacks if it means he can love Yuuri Katsuki until the end of time.

Victor loses track of how long they dance for. Sometime after the first song others join them on the floor, linking fingers with their significant others and pulling them close. The unpaired guests mingle on the outskirts before eventually joining in as well, hands clasped as they gleefully spin each other around during the faster numbers. At some point, even Yakov manages to wander over to Madame Baranovskaya, the two exchanging frosty glances before falling into a truly tantalizing tango that has everyone watching in awe.

Before he knows it, the night is coming to a close and the party is almost at its end… but not before Victor asks that question that’s been burning in the back of his mind all night.

“Come with me,” Victor whispers in Yuuri’s ear when the crowd begins to dispel.

“Where are we going?” Yuuri asks as Victor grabs his hand and leads him across the ballroom, out of the throng and into the quiet, faraway hallway.

Victor laughs under his breath and tightens his hold on Yuuri’s hand. “I’ve got a little surprise for you waiting outside.”

“Surprise? Why?”

“Does there need to be a reason?” Victor asks.

“I guess not, but why are you’re leaving your own party for thi— _whoa._ ”

Victor can’t help it. A swell of pride runs through him when they wander out onto the terrace and Yuuri sees all of his hard work. The sky is open and beautiful, filled with millions of glistening, bright stars. They mix in with the paper lanterns, draped across an iron pergola and filled with candles that cast a faint glow over the grass. The band from earlier is seated off to the side, and as soon as Yuuri comes into view they take to their instruments and begin playing a familiar, cresting tune, one that immediately has Yuuri bringing a hand to his chest.

It’s exactly how Victor wanted this moment to go.

“ _Vitya_ ,” Yuuri says in barely a whisper, eyes flicking between the lights and the band and the cosmos above. “It looks like the Festival of Lights out here, and… my music!” He turns so he’s facing Victor and raises an eyebrow at him. “What are you up to?” he says playfully.

Victor gives him one of his heart-shaped smiles and guides Yuuri under the pergola, offering his other hand for Yuuri to take. “Dance with me and find out?”

Yuuri just smiles and mutters “you’re absolutely ridiculous” under his breath before taking his outstretched hand.

Unlike their earlier, easy swaying, this time they’re twirling across the grass in a fast-paced waltz. Victor’s more than willing to follow Yuuri’s lead, letting his boyfriend push and pull and dip him in any way he pleases. The music crescendos around them in a melodic harmony and Yuuri picks up their pace, so fast that for a brief moment, Victor’s almost lifted off of the ground completely. When the notes fall and fade and they’re left panting for breath, there is only one thing running through his mind: he has to ask Yuuri to marry him _now_.

“Yuuri,” Victor whispers, desperately trying to catch his breath. He leans his forehead against Yuuri’s and lets his fingers brush against Yuuri’s cheek. “Before I met you, my life… I forgot how to enjoy it. But then you came along and taught me how to live again, and ever since my life has been an unending chain of surprises.” He pauses, takes a breath, lets his free hand reach into his pocket and grasps the box. “And I want to keep being surprised by you, for the rest of my life.” He flicks said box open, pinches that golden ring between his fingers, hides it in his hand.

Breathes in. Breathes out. Says, “Yuuri, I love you more than anything in the world. Will you—”

“Your Majesty!”

Victor freezes and drops the ring he was about to reveal. Instead, he lets go of Yuuri and spins around on his heel, eyes reeling until they land on a figure above them, leaning over the balcony in clear distress.

“Otabek?” Victor calls out. “What’s going on?”

Otabek rubs his hand over his face and lets out a sigh loud enough to be heard all the way from his vantage point. “I’m sorry to interrupt but there is a… situation going on inside.”

He narrows his eyes. “What situation?”

Otabek sighs again and weakly gestures towards the doors he walked out of. “I think it would be better if you saw for yourself. Follow me.” Without another word he retreats inside, leaving Victor and Yuuri alone once again.

Victor grinds his teeth together and glares at where Otabek was just standing. Why, why, _why_ is something going wrong now? Everything was perfect up until this point, and now what? If he goes back inside, the magic is broken and everything goes to waste. The time spent coming up with this plan, the countless hours choosing decorations with Georgi and finding ways to homage that first week with Yuuri in Hasetsu, the proposal, all gone in an instant. No, he can’t let that happen. Surely whatever is going on inside can wait, right?

Apparently not, because as if fate planned it, as soon as the thought crosses Victor’s mind, the loudest crash Victor’s ever heard rips through the quiet night, followed by what can only be the concerned yelling of his guests.

“Dammit,” Victor hisses through his teeth, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “We have to go back, don’t we?”

Yuuri nods solemnly and wraps his arms around Victor’s middle, leaning up on his tiptoes so his chin is resting against Victor’s shoulder. “‘Fraid so,” he mumbles. “You are officially king now, after all.”

“Ugh, I hate that you’re right,” Victor mutters back, then gently lets go of Yuuri’s embrace. “Let’s go see who is destroying the best night of my life.”

Yuuri links arms with Victor and leans against his side as they begin walking back. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I’m sure it won’t be anything too bad.”

It’s _awful_.

When Otabek guides them back into the ballroom, they are immediately greeted by chaos. Waiters crowd in the corner, using their serving trays as shields against the flying pastries being hurled at them. Guests look positively scandalized, with parents covering the ears of their young ones. King Jean-Jacques is practically cowering on the floor, looking like a kid in time-out.

And at the center of this chaos stands Yuri, an empty champagne glass in one hand and a mini cupcake in the other, clearly ready to be tossed at whoever annoys him next.

“Parties are _stupid_ ,” Yuri slurs, walking a few feet before toppling to the ground. “All of you are _bougie assholes!_ You!” A cupcake flies through the air and lands smack dab in the middle of Emil’s forehead. “And you!” Another, this one soaring only a few inches before falling pathetically on the floor. “And _especially_ you!”

“Hey!” King JJ yells when Yuri points a finger at him. “That’s not JJ style!”

“Nothing is JJ style! That’s just a stupid thing you made up! And also—”

“Yuri, that is enough!” Victor exclaims when his brain finally catches up to what’s going on. He rushes forward and grabs hold of Yuri’s arm, while Otabek takes hold of the other. Yuri thrashes and fights back as they pull him away from the muttering crowd, spewing profanities while he tries to wiggle away.

“Let goooooo,” Yuri slurs.

“After that display? Not a chance,” Victor hisses. He curls his fingers tighter into Yuri’s arm and says, “How much did you have to drink?”

“Psh, why do you want to know?” Yuri rolls his head in a dramatic fashion and rips out of Victor and Otabek’s grasp. “I don’t have to tell you _anything_.”

“He drank an entire bottle of champagne,” Otabek mutters, side-eyeing Yuri with his arms crossed over his chest.

Yuri gasps. “ _Traitor_.”

“Okay, that’s enough!” Yuuri waves his hands and steps into the fray. “Yuri, you’re drunk. You need to go upstairs and go to bed.” He turns towards Victor and nods towards the party. “Otabek and I will take care of Yuri. You stay here and work on damage control. Everyone understand?”

A disinterested mumbling rumbles from all three of them, and Yuuri nods in satisfaction. “Good. Otabek, I’ll be up to help in a minute, okay?”

Otabek flashes them a thumbs up, then walks over to Yuri and drapes an arm around his waist. Together they hobble down the hallway and out of sight, Yuri’s loud protests echoing throughout the chamber until they’re out of sight.

Victor groans. “Love, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“For my charge turning what was a perfect night into an episode of Real Housewives! I—” Victor visibly deflates, hunching in on himself and crossing his arms over his chest. “I… wanted this ball to make the Glacian headlines, but not because King JJ got called out by an angry eighteen year old. I–”

“ _Vitya_ ,” Yuuri croons, coming up close and cupping Victor’s head in his hands. He rubs his thumbs over Victor’s cheeks and leans in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Besides this uh, incident, I had the time of my life tonight.”

Victor starts at that. “You did?”

Yuuri nods and smiles shyly. “Everything was beautiful, really. And,” he says, taking a step forward and bringing his lips up to Victor’s ear, “the night isn’t over yet. Remember what you wanted earlier?”

“ _Yuuri_ ,” Victor hisses when Yuuri’s nose brushes against his neck, causing goosebumps to rise.

“Hm,” Yuuri hums, kissing a line from Victor’s jaw to collarbone. “Then I can count on you to meet me in my bedroom later? After I make sure Yuri is okay?”

Victor leans away from Yuuri’s touch and clenches his fingers into fists. Any more of those ministrations and he’ll never be able to think coherently. “I’ll make my apologies fast,” Victor promises, then leaves one last kiss on Yuuri’s head. “Go, I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Yuuri nods in understanding, squeezing Victor’s arm one last time before he too takes off down the hallway, following the path Otabek and Yuri took. When he’s out of eyesight, Victor nearly collapses against the nearest wall. How can a simple kiss from Yuuri bring him to his knees?

No time to think about that. Instead, he has to go address a crowd of confused guests and clean up the diplomatic mess Yuri made. Not exactly how he wanted this night to end.

With a sigh, Victor brushes off the wrinkles on his jacket, brushes the hair out of his eyes, and makes his way back into the fray, ignoring the sting of that ungiven ring in his pocket as best as he can.


	2. Chapter 2

_Okay, so your first try didn’t go as planned_ , _but today is a new day, a new chapter. Everything will go perfectly this time around, and by the end of the day you’ll be an engaged man. Nothing can go wrong._

At least, that’s what Victor tells himself as he paces around his room, glancing at the clock for the thousandth time in an hour. After the disastrous ball on Saturday, Victor spent three days in personal relations hell, apologizing over and over again on behalf of Yuri’s less-than-mature behavior. He smiled for all the cameras and answered all of the presses questions, until finally all was said and done and the media found something else to write about. To say he spent those three days frustrated would be an understatement.

But it’s over. The dust has settled, and now it’s time for take two— at least it would be if Yuuri would just _hurry up and get ready_.

“Yuuri, we’re going to be late!” Victor calls out, which results in a loud crash echoing from the bathroom.

“Sorry!” Yuuri’s voice echoes back. “I just can’t decide what to wear.”

“Darling, we’re going for a walk along a private beach, so unless the gulls have gained a sense for fashion I promise you, you’re okay.”

“Fine,” Yuuri says. He stumbles into the bedroom with a tie draped around his shoulders, hair in a disarray, button-down shirt open and exposing his broad chest. A smile flickers across his face before he crosses his arms. “Is this good enough for you?”

Victor reaches forward to playfully swat Yuuri’s arm. “Well _I’m_ not going to complain about you being half-naked, but Mila does have to supervise this outing for us.” Then, as if on cue, three knocks ring out against the wood. “Come in!” Victor calls as Yuuri scuttles back into the bathroom.

The door creaks open behind him and Victor feels a smile flit across his face as he turns around. “Ah, right on time. How are you today Mi— _oh_.”

All enthusiasm he feels evaporates the minute he lays eyes on Mila. _Tired_ doesn’t even begin to cover it; she looks _awful_. Dark, bruise-like circles are under her eyes, her perpetually made-up face is bare. A large stain that looks coffee-colored is an eyesore against her stark white shirt, and her hair looks like she’s been running her fingers through it all night.

“Victor,” she says, voice uneven and shaky. “I need you and Yuuri to come with me immediately. There’s… been an incident.”

“An… incident? What kind of incident?”

She bites her lip and glances away. “The Glacian PR twitter was tagged in a string of threatening tweets last night.”

“Threatening?”

Mila nods. “Yakov and Georgi are waiting in the conference room to discuss it, but I’ll warn you…” She leans in and whispers, “Those tweets were directed at Yuuri specifically.”

Victor feels the blood leave his face and he curls his fingers into fists. He’s gotten his fair share of threats over the years, ranging from slightly concerning to extremely serious. And it’s not like he’s ignorant to the “controversial” nature of him dating a commoner; Glacia may be a small, fledging country, but everyone who has sat on the throne prior has married someone of nobility. Of course there are a few people who are unhappy with his relationship with Yuuri and have made it known time and time again. But to threaten him? _His_ Yuuri? Oh, what a mistake that was. They won’t know what hit them when he finds out who could write such hateful words. He’ll bring them to court, he’ll expose them all, he’ll—

“Victor? Victor! Calm down, will you?” Mila exclaims, and it’s only then that he realized the pain blooming in his palm. Sure enough, when he glances down small, bright red colored indents are embedded in his skin from where he dug his nails in.

Victor ducks his head and mutters, “Sorry.”

Mila sighs and takes his hand in hers, pulling out a napkin from her back pocket before dabbing the little splotches of blood away. “I know this is scary, but you can’t work yourself up over it. No good will come of that.” When it’s clear he’s not going to bleed out, she lets him go and levels a stare at him. “Look, when Yuuri’s ready, bring him down to the conference room. We’ll discuss everything there, okay?”

“Fine,” Victor mumbles back.

Mila nods in assent and turns towards the door. “We’ll make this right, Vitya,” she says over her shoulder, then slowly walks out the door and lets it close softly behind her.

“Was that Mila? Is she ready to go?” says Yuuri, this time emerging from the bathroom fully clothed.

Victor steels himself and turns to face Yuuri. “I’m sorry, love, but our plans will have to be put on hold.” He offers his hand for Yuuri to take. “Follow me.”

* * *

The castle’s conference room holds many fond memories for Victor. It’s the room where he learned to walk when he was a child, tottering towards his father during one of his conference calls. It’s the room where he held his first meeting as King, young and confused and desperate for guidance. It’s the room where he sealed Glacia’s alliances with Japan, the room where he won his first big argument with Yakov, the room where he spent three days straight watching Eurovision coverage with Mila.

But most importantly of all, it’s the room where Yuuri surprised him for that first time, turned around and pulled Victor into this grand, great, gorgeous adventure that’s been the past three years. This room should feel comforting, like sitting by the fire on a cold winter day or sipping at warm herbal tea.

Today, it’s not.

When they are ushered into the room, Victor feels as if he’s stepped into a freezer. Everything is cold. The blinds are pulled down, obscuring any daylight from entering. The air radiates tension. The only person who looks slightly at-ease is the castle’s social media manager, Seung-gil, but that’s not saying much; the room could be on fire and he’d probably just sigh and roll his eyes like it was a minor inconvenience.

“Vitya. Yuuri. Take a seat,” Yakov instructs from the front of the room, gesturing to the plethora of papers laid out before him.

Victor slides into the closest chair, Yuuri opting to sit in the next to him. Mila gets up from where she’s seated next to Yuri and makes her way to the front of the room, arms crossed tightly across her chest.

“What’s going on?” Yuuri asks, eyebrows furrowing into a line.

Mila nods her head in Seung-gil’s direction. “Care to explain?”

Seung-gil mutters something unintelligible and pulls out his phone, typing away for a few moments before he slides it towards the middle of the table. “At approximately 11:07 last night, a concerning hashtag came up in Glacia’s trending topics on Twitter, #GlaciaFirst. The first few tweets look harmless, but the further down you scroll, the more hateful the tweets get.”

Victor hesitantly reaches forward and grabs the phone, placing it between him and Yuuri so they can read through the tag. Like Seung-gil said, the first few aren’t _terrible_ , just a few citizens complaining about Glacia’s newest alliances with Italy and Canada. But as they go down, Victor feels a rock drop into his gut at what he reads.

> **layla @ finals hell** @laylalivelaylalove
> 
> hey @GlaciaCastlePR tell our king that his boy toy has overstayed his welcome and its time for him to put #GlaciaFirst
> 
> **Roger Thurin** @rogerbthurin
> 
> According to @ImogenJournals, King Victor could soon be proposing to his boyfriend, Katsuki Yuuri. Doing this will not only ruin our country, but will taint the sacredness of the monarchy. Tell King Victor to find a true noble and right this wrong. #GlaciaFirst
> 
> **hoe for king vic** @nikiforovgirl1981
> 
> EXCUSE ME BUT IF THE RUMORS ARE TRUE AND VICTOR IS PROPOSING TO THAT TRASHBAG COMMONER THEN I WILL COME OVER THERE AND SET THE CASTLE ON F I R E #GLACIAFIRST
> 
> **Karen Gembell** @GembellRealEstate
> 
> I’ve been a Glacian citizen for all 50 years of my life and have never been ashamed of this country until now. King Victor marrying a foreigner puts our safety is at risk! Tell @GlaciaCastlePR that they need to get their priorities in order and put #GlaciaFirst
> 
> **Buzzfeed Glacia** @buzzfeedglacia
> 
> 10 Reasons why King Victor and his boyfriend Yuuri Katsuki are #relationshipgoals
> 
> **ANTI VICTUURI** @chrisvic4ever
> 
> HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT THE KING THIS WAY BY PROMOTING HIS UNWORTHY COMMONER BOYFRIEND YOU’RE CANCELLED #GlaciaFirst #antivictuuri #victuuri #chrisvic4ever #fightmeyuuri #hatethatbish

“You… better stop reading that now, it doesn’t get any better,” Mila whispers as she appears over his shoulder, sliding the phone back over to Seung-gil before she takes her place next to Yakov again.

“After all of this,” Seung-gil says, charging on, “a threatening direct message was sent to Castle PR from newly created account called ‘Victuuri Death Countdown’. It contained several pictures of the beach you were supposed to visit today, along with a picture of this handwritten message.” He raises his eyebrow at Yakov, who grunts and slides the photos across the table.

Victor’s gut churns as he draws the pictures closer, getting a better look at them. The beach depicted is definitely the one he was planning to take Yuuri to; the distinct teal-blue lifeguard post and white sand assures it. And if that isn’t unsettling enough, the message attached is terrifying. Every other word is a curse, accusing Victor of betraying the country by “associating” with someone outside of the nobility. Talk of royal purity is mixed in with threats against Victor, but what makes him go cold is the last line.

“If you do not end things with Yuuri, I promise you I will end him myself,” Victor reads aloud, voice cracking on the last word. He practically shoves the paper away, so forcefully it flies off of the table and lands on the ground. “Who did this? How can we find them? Who would hurt Yuuri? Why—”

“Your Majesty,” Seung-gil interrupts, raising one hand in the air, “you have no need to worry. Whoever made the account was clearly an imbecile. He didn’t hide his IP address so we were able to track him down almost immediately. He was taken into custody this morning for questioning.”

Victor relaxes, but only a little bit. Sure, the immediate threat has been detained, but what about the others who were participating in that Twitter hashtag? Who’s to say that there are not others out there, equally as crazy and willing to commit heinous crimes against him? Against _Yuuri?_

His unease must be evident, because Yuuri lays a hand on his and nudges him with his elbow. “Hey,” he says in a quiet voice, glancing up at Victor from under his eyelashes, “It’s okay. They found him, right? And it’s not like this anything new; people have been against our relationship from the beginning. It’s… fine.”

“Yuuri, someone just threatened your life. It’s anything but _fine_ ,” Mila says. She brushes a piece of hair from her eyes and levels a harsh glare at him. “The longer you two are together, the more restless this group is becoming. This,” she points at the papers, “is just the beginning.”

“We’ve been monitoring this group for a while,” Yakov interrupts for the first time, voice gruff and clearly annoyed. “They’re small, but loud. Who knows what they’ll try next.” He pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out an exasperated sigh through his teeth. “I think it best if you two lay low for a couple of days until this blows over.”

Victor slumps into his chair and lolls his head back. Of course Yakov is right. While he wants nothing more than to carry out his proposal plans, Yuuri’s safety is his first and foremost priority. Not to mention that his mind is racing now, filled with the possibilities of what could’ve happened if they went to the beach today. It’s a spiral, and soon enough he feels his heart racing in his chest, sweat dewing on the back of his neck. If they went, if that person was there, if he lost Yuuri…

“Vitya,” Yuuri whispers next to him, breath brushing warm against his neck. “I know this is scary, but really, I’m fine. _We’ll_ be fine. Let’s just spend the next few days watching all of those trashy royalty movies you like so much and uh, eating all of pocky we can find.”

Victor turns towards Yuuri and looks at him, really looks at him. To an outsider, they probably wouldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Yuuri’s smiling brightly and nodding his head, looking calm and collected. But Victor’s been around him for three years now, knows all of this little nervous tells. His fingers are tapping a random beat against his thigh. His smile is forced and just wide enough to be fake. His eyes keep glancing around the room, looking for the nearest escape. Putting on a brave face to put Victor at ease.

Oh, _Yuuri_.

He reaches forward and lays a hand on Yuuri’s cheek. “I’d love that,” Victor says, then leans in to peck a kiss against his too-tight lips. “Bring Makkachin and it’s a real party.”

Yuuri laughs, authentically this time. “It’s a date. Uh,” he says, eyeing Yakov and Mila at the front of the room. “Are we free to go now?”

Yakov waves his hand towards the door. “For now, yes. We’ll meet up tomorrow once the investigation is further along. Go enjoy your night, boys. And stay within castle grounds. I mean it, Vitya.”

“Why are you targeting me?” Victor asks as he gets up from his chair, Yuuri following his lead.

“Because Yuuri’s listened to all of my rules since you’ve gotten together. Meanwhile, you’ve been defying me your entire life.” He shrugs. “Sorry if I’m a little biased.”

Victor wishes he had a comeback, but when he opens his mouth all words fall flat on his tongue. “Touché, but I promise you I’ll listen this time. No going off of castle grounds until you say so.” He brings his fingers up to his forehead and salutes. “King’s honor.”

Yakov eyes him with disdain, but eventually sighs and shakes his head. “You better keep that promise, Vitya.”

Victor raises his hands. “You have my word.”

And he keeps it. After getting dismissed by Yakov, Yuuri and him go back to Victor’s bedroom and change into comfy sweats before climbing into bed. They only have to channel surf for a minute before they stumble across a truly inspiring tale about a young princess who pretends to date her childhood best friend. It’s fascinating, a work for the ages… at least, it is until the fifth commercial break. After that, who knows what happens, because Yuuri’s lips against his is a welcome distraction, and all plans of paying attention go out the window. By the time the credits roll, Victor’s been thoroughly spent two times over, and the only thing he can think about is Yuuri’s dozing off against his bare chest and the velvet box tucked away in his closet.

It would be easy, he thinks, to propose right here, right now, after a soft, sweet, sensual evening together. All he’d have to do is grab the ring, get on one knee, and pop the question as soon as Yuuri awoke. It’d be romantic, a story only for them.

But it’d also be so wrong. What they just did was amazing, but it was also a distraction from the hellish day they’ve had. How could he possibly use that as a backdrop to such an intimate question?

Victor sighs and nuzzles down further into the covers. His father always told him that patience was his best virtue, so he’ll just have to believe that. Wait until the time is right, and propose when all of the stars are aligned.

_That_ he can do. That he will do.

And with that thought in mind, Victor lets his eyes flutter shut and drifts off, Yuuri warm and close in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to anyone who is reading along! I'm really making progress on this 'verse, and if I finish this week the update schedule will pick up a bit! Also, I'd like to thank [ Robbie ](http://thehobbem.tumblr.com) for being my beta! This fic would not be as coherent as it is without her guidance. :D


	3. Chapter 3

It takes a week for Victor’s security team to give him and Yuuri the ‘all clear’. Seven days of staying within the confines of the castle, seven days of listening to Mila and Georgi lecture him about proper safety precautions. Seven days of Yakov dragging him to meeting after meeting, obviously taking advantage of the fact that there was no way for Victor to escape. The only thing that kept him calm was Yuuri, and even then they had to retreat to separate wings of the castle after three days of non-stop togetherness. Overall, a hellish week if there ever was one.

But there was one upside to being stuck in the castle for that long; it gave him plenty of time to mull over his newest proposal idea. When Yuuri wasn’t by his side Victor was in his room, going over the plan and ironing out any kinks or holes. After some careful consideration, he knows he has a proposal he can knock out of the park. He’ll take Yuuri to Glacia’s annual Life & Love fest, because what better way to ask someone to marry you than at a festival about love? They’ll eat food, dance, check out the entertainment, and when Yuuri is distracted, Victor will go win one of those cheesy, fake diamond rings from one of the game booths. He’ll present Yuuri the fake ring as a joke, only to pull out the _real_ one once they’re cuddled close on the ferris wheel, gazing at the stars above. Yuuri will cry, Victor will cry, and he’ll finally be able to call Yuuri _fiancé_.

He’ll be damned if this one goes sideways like the others. Third time has to be the charm.

And so far, it has been. The sky is streaked through with orange and pink clouds when they arrive at sunset, and the air is pleasantly warm for a spring night. Mila tells them that as long as they’re in her sight, she’ll keep her distance and let them have their privacy, which leaves Victor to carry out his plan uninterrupted.

So he does. He takes Yuuri to all around the festival, wooing him with lava cake and ridiculous masks and homemade dog treats for Makka. Mila, being the best wingwoman there ever was, distracts Yuuri at a clothing booth while Victor (miraculously) wins a game of whack-a-mole and gets his fake ring. He secures it in his pocket and whisks Yuuri away once more, heart pattering in his chest every time he even glances in Yuuri’s direction. How can he not? Yuuri is shining brighter than the sun tonight. When they take turns plucking fruit off of a kabob, Yuuri smiles around his bite and looks at Victor like he hung the stars in the sky. When they go into a cramped, cheesy photo booth, Yuuri giggles as he pulls Victor in and shoves their faces together for an impromptu kiss, one that’s messy and awkward but still somehow looks cute when caught on camera. And when the sun goes down completely and a group of volunteers hand out glowing stick, Yuuri takes his hand and twirls him around, laughter bubbling on both of their lips as the world spins around them.

It’s romantic. It’s beautiful. It’s everything he could’ve asked for.

Which means it’s time.

* * *

Being suspended hundreds of feet in the air should be terrifying, but to Victor? It’s breathtaking. From the top of this ferris wheel he can see everything; the lazy river curling through the nearby woods, the light from town glowing in the distance, the line of rain clouds rolling in from the north. Everything is so peaceful, so calm. Forget balls and walks on the beach. He couldn’t have asked for a better backdrop than this, right here, right now.

“Yuuri, remember how you won me that stuffed seal all those years ago?” he asks.

“Uh-huh,” Yuuri mumbles.

“And remember how I never got you anything in return?” He smiles as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out that huge, cheesy diamond ring. “Well, surprise!”

Yuuri looks at the ring for all of five seconds before he takes it from Victor’s outstretched hand and mutters “thank you” under his breath. Not exactly the upbeat response Victor imagined, but he pushes through.

“You know, when I won that ring, it made me think about what a real ring would look like on you— Yuuri? Yuuri! Yuuri!”

“What?!” Yuuri snaps, tossing his head in Victor’s direction. It’s only then that Victor _really_ looks at Yuuri, sees the tense set of his shoulders, the iron grip he has on the metal bar, the way he keeps glancing up and not down.

_Oh._

“You’re scared of heights, aren’t you?” Victor asks sheepishly, scooting down a little in shame.

Yuuri sags his shoulder a little and flashes Victor an equally sheepish look. “Yeah, sorry.”

Victor sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me before we got on a ferris wheel?”

“Because you sounded so insistent and uh, I didn’t want to ruin your night.” The cart jerks forward and Yuuri lets out a screech, loud enough that his cheeks color in embarrassment. “Which was stupid, because now I’m freaking out and messing up our night and—”

“Yuuri, love, look at me,” Victor pleads. He pries Yuuri’s grip from the bar and takes both of his hands between his own, holding on tight as the wheel cranks forward once again. “You didn’t mess anything up, I promise you that. Just breathe.”

“Breathe. Breathing,” Yuuri mutters to himself, then does just that. Takes a deep breath in, lets it out, closing his eyes as the wheel begins to cycle. Victor holds him close until they come to a stop and they’re both safely on the ground, and half-carries a woozy Yuuri back to their limo as the skies fill with clouds and raindrops begin to fall. They drive back to the castle in comfortable silence, Victor rubbing circles into the back of Yuuri’s (ringless) hand the entire way.


	4. Chapter 4

Three proposals, botched. A month of Yuuri’s visit, gone. Victor’s positive he can’t handle his plans going sideways again, which means it’s time to bring in the heavy hitters.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this!” Georgi snatches the ring box off of Victor’s nightstand and shakes it in his face. “Me, of all people! Don’t you know I’m an expert in the art of love?”

“You?! What about me?!” Yuri exclaims from the desk chair he’s curled up on like an oversized cat. “I’ve lived with him my entire goddamn life and he doesn’t even think to tell me he’s proposing to his stupid boyfriend?” He mutters a string of unintelligible curses under his breath and glares at the wall.

“For the last time, I’m sorry,” Victor emphasizes, drawing out the last word. He flops back onto his bed and lets himself sink into the pillows. “But you know the castle is a glutton for gossip.”

“Then why did you tell the hag?” Yuri juts his finger at Mila who is leaning up against the bedpost, trying her best to look as innocent as a doe. “She’s the biggest gossip of all!”

Mila gasps and brings his hands up to her chest. “Excuse me? Who was the one who kept quiet for a whole month?” She jabs a finger at herself.

“It doesn’t matter,” Victor says. He waves his hand and blows a stray piece of hair from his eyes. “What matters is that I’m still without a fiancé!” He gestures to the group and says, “That’s why I need your help. Everything I’ve tried has gone up in flames.”

Mila taps her index finger against her chin. “Your proposals have been a bit… extreme,” she says. “I think you just need to simplify, that’s all.”

“She has a point,” Georgi says. “Grand gestures are nice, but Yuuri doesn’t strike me as one who loves big events.” He lights up and exclaims, “You should take him out for a boat ride on the river!”

“A _boat ride_? That’s bound to end in disaster!” Mila counters. “He’d probably end up dropping the ring into the water or falling overboard or something.” She walks forward and takes the box from where Georgi left it on the table. “No, _here’s_ what Victor’s going to do. He’ll take Yuuri out on a quiet walk around the gardens and then propose in the gazebo.”

Victor shakes his head before Mila’s even finished. “Yuuri’s allergic to bees and they’re everywhere this time of year. What about… writing him a poem?”

“Roses are red, violets are blue, Yuuri I wish to marry you,” Georgi muses, nodding his head. “I like it.”

“No way! That’s cheesy as hell,” Mila retorts.

“Then tell us, Oh Knowledgeable One, what is the best way to propose? Because apparently only _your_ ideas are the good ones!” Georgi snaps as he rolls his eyes.

“I did not say that!”

“You might as well have!”

Bickering fills the room as Mila and Georgi talk over one another, pointing fingers and raising their voices every five seconds. Victor rolls his eyes and curls up on his side; at this rate, he’ll be lucky to propose at all.

“They’re both wrong, you know.”

Victor startles and rolls over. Yuri is seated at the edge of his bed now, arms crossed tightly over his middle.

“What do you mean?” Victor asks with narrowed eyes.

Yuri sighs and pulls out his phone, scrolling for a few seconds before he ungracefully tosses it on the bed. “There.”

Victor hesitantly reaches forward and takes the phone in his hand. On the screen is the website for a local Italian restaurant, one that looks ordinary and plain from the outside. But to Victor? This place means the world. It’s where his parents met, young and starry-eyed teenagers who fell in love at first sight. It’s where they had their first date, bonding over their love of dogs and boredom with the political ties they were expected to upkeep. It was where they had their first dance, first kiss. It’s where his father, helplessly enchanted by the woman in front of him, asked her to marry him.

Of course. How did he not think of this before?

“I booked you a reservation for tonight, by the way,” Yuri mutters under his breath. “Y’know, just tryin’ to help and stuff.”

“Yuri, this is amazing!” Victor exclaims. “How can I thank you?”

Yuri snorts and grabs his phone back from Victor. “You can thank me by making this work. If Katsuki comes back without a ring on his finger I’ll never help you with anything again.”

Victor smiles and nods his head. “Don’t worry; this time, everything will go exactly the plan.”

* * *

Walking into the restaurant is like stepping through time. Everything is exactly as Victor remembers it from his father’s pictures: worn brick walls reach high, accentuating the arched doorways and glass ceiling above them. Old wooden tables are sprinkled throughout the dining room, adorned with crisp white tablecloths and small votive candles. The only difference now is his parents’ wedding photo hung up on the wall, complimented by a gold frame. It’s gorgeous, a complete gem. And, most importantly, it’s gloriously empty besides an older couple in the corner, two men laughing loudly in the next room and, of course, Mila, who has promised to look over them from a few tables away.

A hostess guides them through the maze of tables and back towards an empty, beautifully secluded corner booth. Yuuri thanks her before sliding into the middle, Victor following right behind. He wraps an arm around Victor’s middle and pulls him close as he flicks open a menu and reads off the items in perfect Italian, which only makes Victor gape in awe.

“Why didn’t you tell me you spoke Italian?” Victor asks.

Yuuri shrugs next to him and leans his head against Victor’s shoulder. “It’s not like I’m fluent or anything. All I know is what Celestino taught me when he was my coach.”

“Hm,” Victor hums, “What did he teach you?”

Yuuri turns his head away and mutters, “Uh, a few things. We ate at a lot of Italian restaurants during the off season, so I picked up a lot from that. I know a few phrases like ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’, basic stuff like that. And uh… I know a little bit of profanity.”

“How dirty,” Victor teases, comically raising an eyebrow.

Yuuri lightly nudges him in the ribs. “Idiot,” he mutters, but even he can’t hide the smile that is dancing across his lips as he waves their waitress over. “C’mon, let’s order.”

Truth be told, Victor never understood why his father proposed out of the blue. Why would anyone just ask someone such an important question without any planning? But now he gets it. With Yuuri curled up against his side, taking sips of champagne and laughing at a joke Victor made, Victor feels like butterflies have made a nest in his gut, tickling his ribs with feather-light wings. Between bites of their shared dinner (an absolutely delicious lobster ravioli with foie gras), Yuuri goes on a rant about a problem student at the rink. The topic would’ve been mundane if coming from someone else, but with Yuuri, Victor finds himself entranced, leaning his elbow on the table while he looks on at Yuuri lovingly.

He imagines this is exactly how his father felt when he proposed; his heart is bursting, filled to the brim with love and adoration. The ring in his pocket feels like a caged bird, waiting to be untethered and set free, and the words he wishes to speak into existence are on the tip of his tongue and pounding in his head.

 _Marry me_ , Victor thinks as Yuuri downs the last of his champagne and accidentally burps, cheeks turning red.

 _Marry me,_ Victor pleads as Yuuri talks about the triplets newest antics, lighting up when their names are even mentioned.

“Marry—”

“Christophe?”

“Chris?” Victor parrots, only to have Yuuri gesture behind him. When he turns around, it takes everything in him to hold back the groan that threatens to escape.

If it were any other day, any other moment, Victor would be thrilled to see Chris; despite their summer fling all those years ago, they’re still incredibly close friends who text memes and funny stories to each other constantly. But now? He wants nothing more than to launch Chris into another orbit.

Of course, he doesn’t do that. Instead he smiles forcefully and tilts his head as he says, “Ah, Chris!”

Chris clicks his tongue and raises an eyebrow at them. “Why hello, chéris, what a coincidence! What are you doing here?”

“Having a nice dinner; what are _you_ doing here?”

“The same thing. I’m here with my lover, Matthieu,” Chris points to a dark-haired man who is pacing outside the front window, clearly engaged in a lively phone conversation. He leans in towards them both and whispers, “You’d be proud of me, Victor. He’s the first man that’s lasted for longer than a month.”

Victor nods along and smiles, hoping his impatience is obvious. “I’m happy for you, Chris. I really am.”

“You should be, after you broke my poor, little heart,” Chris teases. He looks over at Yuuri then and smirks. “But it’s all for the best. Your fiancé is adorable as always, Victor.”

Yuuri blushes red and ducks his head. “Uh,” he mutters, “I’m not his fiancé, Chris.”

Chris raises an eyebrow at Victor. “He’s not?”

Victor grits his teeth and slips out of Yuuri’s arms. “May I speak with you for a moment?” He doesn’t wait for a proper answer, just gets up and drags Chris towards the other end of the restaurant before turning on him and snapping, “What are you doing?”

“Me? What are _you_ doing? Last I read you were on your way to being a happily engaged man.”

“Are you really buying into those tabloids?”

“No, but were they wrong?” When Victor doesn’t respond, Chris shakes his head and smirks back at him. “And from that look on your face, I’m guessing I just interrupted said proposal, correct?”

Victor sighs and reaches into his pocket. After looking around for eavesdroppers and only finding a clearly disinterested man on his phone nearby, he pulls out the box and quickly flicks it open, showing Chris the ring.

“Oh,” Chris says, “I’m sorry, darling. I had no idea.”

Victor shoves the ring back in his pocket and shrugs. “There’s no way you could’ve known; it’s not your fault.”

“Regardless, I’m sorry.” He pulls out his phone and begins typing up a text. “But I won’t ruin the rest of your night. I’ll just tell Matthieu to meet me ba— oh no.”

“What?”

Chris takes Victor by the shoulders and turns him towards his table. “Looks like our lovers are having a little chat.”

Sure enough, when Victor looks over Yuuri is laughing along with Matthieu, huddled over his phone. And while he can’t tell what they’re talking about, the way Yuuri is using his hands and practically vibrating in his chair shows it’s something he’s incredibly interested in.

“Matthieu used to be a figure skater,” Chris explains. “I wouldn’t be that surprised if they know each other.”

Victor sighs and brushes a piece of hair from his eyes. “What are the chances they’ll stop talking any time soon?”

Chris drapes an arm over Victor’s shoulder and whispers in his ear. “Unlikely, chéri. When Matthieu gets going, he can talk for hours.” He wraps an arm around Victor’s shoulders and knocks their hips together. “Guess this night just turned into a double date.”

Victor closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before straightening up and letting Chris guide him back toward their table. “ _Fantastic.”_


	5. Chapter 5

He never thought last night would’ve ended with _Christophe_ in his arms, but that’s exactly what happens. Somewhere between Yuuri and Matthieu passionately debating the newest changes to ISU protocol and arriving back at the castle, Chris and Victor both downed another three rounds of champagne, accompanied by two (heavily) poured shots and one shared bottle of wine. Thus is how they ended up wandering the streets of downtown Glacia, arms thrown around each other as they belted out ABBA’s greatest hits (at least until Matthieu, Yuuri, and Mila managed to corral them both into the limo and safely back on royal grounds.) It seemed like a brilliant idea at the time, but now?

Victor hates everything.

“Good lord,” he groans, shoving his face into the pillow when he opens his eyes to a particularly bright stream of light coming in through his curtains. “What happened last night?”

“I don't know, darling. I was hoping you could tell me.”

Victor freezes. Sits up. Glances to his left. And is immediately met with a shirtless Christophe looking up at him, clearly disheveled and wrecked from the night before.

“Oh my god,” he gapes. “What are you doing in my _bed?_ ”

Chris shrugs and pushes up into a sitting position, crossing his legs under the covers (Victor prays to every god there is that he’s not naked under there). “Wish I knew. I woke up to you sprawled out on top of me and this note from Matthieu stuck to the bedpost.” He grabs a yellow post-it off of the nightstand and holds it out for Victor to see.

 _“Went to go grab breakfast with Yuuri. Will check back on you two soon.”_ Victor reads. “Well, at least they know we’re here.”

Chris laughs at that, then immediately stills. He furrows his brow and throws the covers aside, padding towards the window. “What’s that noise?”

“What noise?”

As if on cue, a boom of shouting resounds from outside. Chris climbs out of bed, Victor following close behind. They crowd by the window and Victor nudges Chris aside with his hip, then rips open the blinds—

—and goes white at what he finds.

Chaos. Absolute chaos. Reporters are clamoring at the gates to the palace, shoving microphones and recorders towards a limo that seems to have just pulled up. When the doors open Mila steps out, her hair a shock against the overcast sky. She practically shoves people out of the way, parting the crowd like the Red Sea as she angrily glares at anyone who looks to closely.

But that all goes to hell when Yuuri pokes his head out of the car.

Camera bulbs flash, voices rise. Mila does her best to hold back the throngs of people as Yuuri is practically shoved outside by Georgi. Matthieu follows behind and they all rush towards the gates, slipping through the tiny opening before a guard closes them with a clang and threatens prosecution against anyone who tries to trespass.

“What the hell?” Victor exclaims.

“Victor.”

Victor spins towards Chris and immediately feels his blood run cold at the look on his face. “What?”

“You… you’ll want to see this.” Without a word, Chris hands Victor his phone and flicks open the News app.

_**THE END OF AN ERA? KING VICTOR SEEN CANOODLING WITH EX AT LOCAL RESTAURANT** _

**_KING VICTOR ENDS THREE YEAR RELATIONSHIP WITH JAPANESE BOYFRIEND, RETURNS TO SCORNED EX- LOVER, CHRISTOPHE GIACOMETTI_ **

**_ALREADY MOVED ON? KATSUKI YUURI FOUND WITH NEW MAN HOURS AFTER DUMPING A KING_ **

“Click on that first one,” Chris instructs. Victor does… and instantly wishes he didn’t.

 

_**THE END OF AN ERA? KING VICTOR SEEN CANOODLING WITH EX AT LOCAL RESTAURANT** _

By Aaron Evervine

It looks like it’s over for Glacia’s favorite It couple. King Victor was spotted flirting with his ex-boyfriend, Duke Christophe Giacometti of Ila (pictured below). According to an anonymous source, the two were spotted at _Cucina Bella_ last night and were said to have shared a romantic night together, sharing dessert and drinking wine. The two also are rumored to have gotten engaged, as King Victor was found showing Duke Christophe what looked to be an engagement ring.

The question then is, when did King Victor end things with longtime boyfriend, Katsuki Yuuri? While there is no official timeline, the two have not been seen together since the Life and Love festival a week ago, and rumor has it that King Victor and Duke Christophe have been in contact as of late. But it looks like Katsuki Yuuri won’t be nursing a broken heart for long. He was also spotted out on the town last night, talking closely with what looks to be his new beau (pictured below).

Confirmation from Glacia Castle is still forthcoming, but Twitter has already entered a state of frenzy. Some users are devastated and in denial:

> **tessa @ finalsfinalsfinals** @tessalongview
> 
> I REFUSE TO BELIEVE #VICTUURI IS DEAD
> 
> **bree** @bacevedo
> 
> excuse me its 20gayteen so #victuuri can’t be over its against the rules sorry boys
> 
> **Andy Evergreen** @evergreenboy191
> 
> Where are the facts? Why is everyone freaking out before the Castle confirms anything? This all sounds like a bunch of crap and I will not believe anything until I hear it from the castle itself #victuuriforever

Others are more eager about the split:

> **totes m’goats joan** @jyoga19817
> 
> HOLY CRAP THEY BROKE UP #GlaciaFirst [image: gif of woman pouring a glass of champagne]
> 
> **Arielle Lightwood** @alightwood
> 
> It is only in good sense that our King has dumped his mutt of a boyfriend. Duke Christophe is much more suited for the throne, and I hope their relationship thrives.
> 
> **BYE GOLD DIGGER YUURI** @chrisvic4ever
> 
> #VICTUURI IS DEAD AND #CHRISVIC IS RISING GOODBYE WORLD THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED TAKE THAT VICTUURI SUPPORTERS YOUR SHIP IS GONE AGAEADHGA #chrisvic #antivictuuri #CHRISVIC4EVER

Either way, one thing is clear. This will go down as the greatest break-up in Glacia history.

 

“This is bullshit!” He throws the phone onto the bed and yanks the curtains closed. “It’s idiotic, stupid, _bull—_ ”

“I know, but you can’t get up in arms over this,” Chris says calmly. He puts both of his hands on Victor’s shoulders and looks him in the eye. “All you have to do is hold a press conference and let everyone know it’s bullshit.”

Victor sighs. It sounds simple when Chris puts it like that, but he knows it won’t be. Even if he comes out and refutes the entire thing, there will always be news anchors who say he’s lying, tabloids that will follow him and Yuuri around, looking for any little crack in their relationship. And Chris will be caught in the fire too; who knows what they’ll write about him and Matthieu when they reemerge into the public eye.

“C’mon,” Chris says when Victor stays quiet. “You should go talk to Yakov. He can fix anything.”

* * *

“I have no idea how I’m going to fix this.”

Victor leans his elbows up on the conference room table and nods his head towards the windows. “Then try harder!” he snaps. “Did you not see what’s going on out there? It’s chaos!”

“I know damn well what’s going on out there, _Your Majesty_ ,” Yakov spits back. He curls his fingers into fists at his sides and pulls his lips into a line thinner than his hair. “But that doesn’t change the fact that damage control on this will be tricky. We’ll have to hold a press conference, keep you and Yuuri out of the public eye, shut down as much of this nonsense as we can before it hits international news. And even then, it’ll be impossible to fight every piece of misinformation out there.” He sighs and glances through the thin slits between the blinds. “Have you talked to Yuuri yet?”

Victor shakes his head. “I saw Georgi and Mila rushing him inside, but that’s it.”

Yakov grunts. “I’ll warn you, Vitya, it’s not good. Mila called me a few minutes ago and said he’s beyond shaken. In fact,” he pulls out his phone when it chimes from his pocket, “that’s her right now. Hello?” he says as he accepts the call.

Mila’s voice crackles across the speaker. “Yakov? Are you with Victor?”

“I’m here,” Victor calls out from across the room.

“I have an update on the situation,” she says, all business. “Georgi has managed to get Matthieu and Christophe safely off of castle grounds. They’re en route back to Ila as we speak and will be watched over by Christophe’s guards. Matthieu was shaken, but was okay after Chris came to see him.” She pauses, and over the line Victor can hear her footsteps as she whispers, “Yuuri’s a mess. I’ve never seen him like this. I… think you should come over and talk to him. He needs you, Victor.”

“Of course; where are you?”

“Library. It’s the only place in the castle with limited windows. I thought he’d be safest there.”

Victor silently thanks all of the gods above for Mila. “I’ll be there as fast as I can.”

“Okay, see you soon,” she says, then the line falls silent.

He doesn’t even get to open his mouth to speak before Yakov is waving him away. “Go,” he commands. “We’ll discuss all of this later. Take care of Yuuri first.”

Victor gets up from his chair and smiles softly. “Thank you.”

He leaves without another word, dashing out of the room and taking off as fast as he can down the hallway. Wind whips against his face as he emerges into the courtyard and jogs across the grassy area, nearly tripping over the gardener in the process. He yells his apologies behind him but doesn’t look back, keeping his eyes forward as he runs, runs, runs, until he approaches the ornate, wooden doors to the castle’s library.

As he walks inside and begins wandering through the room, he instantly remembers why he never comes here. The place is _neverending_ , stacks after stacks of his father’s books filling up almost every inch of open floor space. A skylight above is the only natural light the room gets, which makes everything feel like a dungeon. It’s borderline _creepy_ , and becomes even more so as he goes from aisle to aisle and finds no signs of life.

“Hello?” Victor calls out, voice echoing through the cavernous space. “Anyone here?”

“Over here!” Mila’s voice echoes back, and when he turns on his heel he sees a flash of red sticking out from the far corner of the room. “By the study!”

Victor dodges through the stacks again, emerging on the other side faster than he thought possible. In the corner is his father’s old study, unused since his passing. Papers remain scattered on the table, pens are uncapped and dried out, a book is open next to his ancient laptop. But what catches Victor’s eye isn’t any of that; it’s Yuuri, sitting in his father’s chair, staring forward with a blank expression on his face. His eyes are rimmed red and his hair is sticking up in a disarray, clearly signs of an earlier breakdown.

 _Oh, no_.

“I’ll… let you two talk,” Mila mutters under her breath, then disappears around a corner and out of Victor’s line of sight.

When they’re alone, Victor walks closer to Yuuri and kneels down next to him. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey,” Yuuri mumbles back.

“I… I’m sorry, about what happened today.”

“It happens,” Yuuri shrugs.

Victor sighs and stands up again. “Yuuri, please talk to me.”

“About what?” he asks, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “You want to hear about I went out to grab bagels, only to find my face on every newspaper? How I had a girl threaten to knock my teeth out if I got back together with you?”

“Yuuri—”

“Or do you want to know how it took Mila fighting off a hoard of reporters just to get me and Matthieu back into the damn car, and how I foolishly thought that would be the end of it? Only to come home even more cameras, even more people, asking me about our breakup?”

“Yuuri, please—”

“And if that isn’t enough, have you seen what people are posting about us? About _me_? People are celebrating that I’m out of the picture, Vitya!”

“Yuuri, please, calm down—”

“No, _Victor_!” Yuuri exclaims. He stands up so quickly the chair behind him topples to the floor. He ignores it and turns so he’s facing Victor. His lower lip is trembling and tears are starting to form in his eyes. When he opens his mouth to speak, his voice comes out shaky. “I’ve been calm for the past two months. I’ve tried to forget that your people don’t like me. I’ve tried to be patient and let them warm up to me, but they _aren’t_. And at this point, I don’t think they ever will.”

“That’s not true,” Victor counters. “Yuuri, I assure you, the people _adore_ you. It’s just a few people who are stuck in the stone age.”

“Oh, really? If that’s true then why did someone spread a rumor that we broke up? Why is there a whole Twitter hashtag bashing us on the daily? Why has my life been threatened?”

“Because that’s just how it is, okay!” Victor snaps. Heat rises to his cheeks as he desperately, pleadingly tries to make Yuuri understand. “Seung-gil goes through my Twitter and looks for threats on the daily. I’ve had people threaten me over my choice of alliances to what I ate for breakfast. It’s just what comes with this life, Yuuri, you have to understand that.”

Yuuri shakes his head. A sob catches in his throat and Victor feels his heart clench. He’s never been good with people crying (Yakov says it’s the one trait he didn’t inherit from his father), but with Yuuri here, in front of him, tears running down his flushed face, he wishes he had the answers, wishes he knew exactly the right words to say to make this go away.

But still, he tries.

“We can fix this,” Victor says in a low voice. “We’ll go out there right now, set everything straight. Who needs Yakov? We can just tell everyone ourselves!”

“And then what?” Yuuri says, clenching his fists. “That doesn’t change anything. People will still spread rumors. People will still hate me. And it will only get worse if we’re engaged.”

Victor sucks in a gasp. “You… figured it out.”

Yuuri laughs, but it’s weak. “You weren’t very subtle about it,” he mutters under his breath, small smile peeking out before falling away again.

“Wait,” Victor says quietly. “Did you say _if_ we’re engaged?” When Yuuri nods, Victor’s heart picks up in his chest. “What do you mean by _if?”_

Yuuri goes quiet, eyes filling up with fresh tears. “…I don’t know if I can do this, Vitya.”

“Do what?”

Yuuri gestures wildly around them. “This! All of this! The rumors and the paparazzi and people thinking they know everything about me from five seconds of interview footage! When I’m in Hasetsu I can ignore all of this, but being here, facing it every day…” He looks down at the ground and quietly says, “I don’t know if I’m ready for this life, if I’ll ever be ready.”

No, this can’t be happening. They’re supposed to be at a celebration brunch right now, drinking champagne and telling the story of how they got engaged last night. They’re _not_ supposed to be here, in a dusty library… breaking up? Is that what Yuuri wants? To end things? No, _no,_ that can’t be right.

Yuuri’s full out sobbing now, not even trying to hold back the tears dripping from his chin. Covering his mouth to muffle his sobs, Yuuri closes his eyes and turns his head away from Victor.

No, no. No no _no._

“Yuuri,” Victor says, voice cracking on his name. “Do you… want to end this?”

“I don’t know!" he sobs. “I love you, but...”

“But what?” Victor pleads. “Please, love. I just want to understand.”

“You can’t! You… can’t, Vitya.” He brushes the tears from his eyes and looks back at Victor, lower lip quivering, gaze downcast, the epitome of brokenness. “I… think I need to leave Glacia for a little while. To… figure everything out.”

Victor stares back, unmoving. When he was younger his father always told him that a king’s heart is made of iron, strong enough to withstand anything. But now, looking at Yuuri’s blotchy face and wobbling lower lip, he wonders how that can possibly be true. His heart is not iron; it’s glass. Fragile, unsteady glass that is breaking into a thousand shattered pieces. How long will Yuuri be away? Days, weeks, years? Will he ever come home?

Yuuri comes forward and lays a hand against his cheek. “I love you,” he whispers, lowly, brokenly. “I love you so much.”

“Then don’t go,” Victor whispers back. “Please, Yuuri. Don’t go.”

Yuuri shakes his head and leans in, leaving a featherlight kiss against Victor’s cheek. “I’m sorry, Vitya. I have to go.”

With that, Yuuri takes one last look at Victor before turning his back and walking out the door, leaving both Victor and his broken glass heart behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LISTEN Y'ALL THIS WAS SO HARD TO WRITE I JUST WANT MY BOYS TO BE HAPPY AND TOGETHER so sorry for this part! but i promise things can only go up now!


	6. Chapter 6

“Vitya, we need to talk.”

Victor glances up from the papers he’s perusing to lay a calculating gaze on Yakov. “Yes?” he asks cooly.

Without asking, Yakov takes a seat across from him at his desk and points at the huge pile of file folders he has spread out all around him. “You’ve been sorting through your father’s things for days. You need to get some fresh air.”

“There’s no time,” Victor mutters under his breath, turning back to the third packet on castle policy he’s gone through today. “If I don’t clean out this desk by the end of the week, I won’t be able to use it when King DJ comes to talk about our alliance.”

“It’s JJ, Vitya. You know that. And why do you need to have your meeting in your father’s study? We have five conference rooms in the castle; use one of them.”

“You know him,” Victor muses. “Last time we hosted him he couldn’t stop bragging about how much better his castle is. I want to prove him wrong.”

Yakov grunts under his breath and crosses his arms over his chest. “Fine. But you at least need to eat something, leave this room.” He turns his head away as he mutters, “I’ve been worried about you, Vitya.”

Victor closes his eyes and inhales deeply through his nose. “You don’t have to worry; I’m fine.”

“Fine? You call this _fine_?” Yakov stands up and places his hands on the desk, curling his fingers around the edge. “You’re barely eating or sleeping. You haven’t taken a break in five days. All of your time is working on mundane tasks you never cared about before, and for what?” He narrows his gaze. “Admit it, Vitya. You’re not fine. This,” he gestures around the room, “is a distraction.”

Victor interlocks his fingers and bites his lower lip, glancing down at the table. Yakov is right, but can anyone blame him? The love of his life _left_ and who knows when he’s coming back? Or if he’s coming back? Besides a text confirming his safe arrival in Japan, Victor’s heard nothing from Yuuri in a week. It’s tearing him up. Which is exactly why all of this is necessary; no time to ruminate when he’s working himself to the bone.

But of course he can’t tell Yakov that. So instead, he says in the levelest of voices, “Is that all you came here to tell me?”

Yakov mumbles something unintelligible before standing up and turning towards the door. “When you decide it’s time to talk, I’ll be around.” And with that he leaves as quickly as he came, letting the door close softly behind him.

Victor huffs and turns back to his work. He knows Yakov means well, but talking isn’t going to solve anything. It’s not going to bring Yuuri back, or rewrite the past two months, or stop the threats from coming. It won’t make him feel better, or heal the hurt that is brewing inside. All it will do is remind him that his entire future has been shattered, which is exactly what he doesn’t need.

And so, Victor does the exact opposite of talk. He _does_. He spends the rest of the day reading through his father’s complex journals and meeting notes. He sorts through the massive library, pulling interesting titles to read. He follows Yakov’s instructions and eats a quick dinner over the kitchen counter, ignoring the disapproving looks the cook gives him at his sloppy manners. He works and works and works, until the sun disappears behind clouds and thunder ripples in the distance. He returns to his room after a long day, tired and feeling properly distracted.

But that lasts for all of five minutes once the quiet of the room settles around him. It starts simple enough: Victor enters the bathroom and turns on the faucet for the tub, only to find himself thinking _Oh, might as well use that cherry-scented bath bomb Yuuri gave me last week_. And from there, it’s all downhill.

_We always used to take a bath together after a long day. Maybe I should go for a shower instead._

_Oh god, this is the song Yuuri sang at karaoke on our second anniversary._

_He left his favorite shirt behind… should I return it? But that would mean he’s never coming back… never coming back... Yuuri… never coming bac—_

“Dammit!” Victor slams his hand against the wall and slides to his knees. Everything he was trying to forget overtakes him like a tidal wave all at once. Sobs wrack his body, harder than any he’s ever experienced, pouring out of him like a waterfall. The longer he sobs, the more his head throbs, and his wail echoes off the walls. It’s like being torn from the inside out, the agony he feels ripping through him as if he’s tissue paper.

He’s not even sure how long it lasts — could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours; but when the tears finally stop and he gets his breath back, one thing is incredibly clear.

He’s not fine. He’s the farthest thing from fine.

And with that thought in mind Victor pushes up from the floor, grabs an umbrella from his closet, and runs out into the pouring rain, across the courtyard and through the gardens, until he stumbles upon a familiar edifice. He knocks three times on a old, wooden door until footsteps echo from the other side and it opens with a loud creak.

“Vitya?” Yakov blearly asks when he gets a good look at him.

Victor wipes his red-rimmed eyes and asks the words that have been lodged inside him all week.

“Can we talk?”

* * *

 

Glacia Castle is divided into two distinct wings. The right wing where Victor resides is a rather new addition, added to the original castle five years before his birth, and renovated a handful of times since then. The left wing, however, is entirely original, and that is where Yakov has chosen to live: in a crumbling servant’s cottage, hidden away in the gardens.

When asked if he’d rather move into the newer quarters, Yakov refused every time. “This has always been my home and everything works fine. Why fix what is not broken?” Victor’s never really understood that logic: why live in an old house with no air conditioning and bare basic amenities when he could live in a shiny new palace?

He understands now. There's something about the stone walls and the low lighting that comforts him, like a soft blanket over his shoulders on a cold night. The cottage may be a little rundown — he's pretty sure that stove is from circa 1967 and the furniture has rips in the fabric — but it's cozy and warm and exactly what he needs right now: peace.

“Sit,” Yakov commands, gesturing to the small couch in the corner. He turns towards the stove and stirs whatever he’s heating up.

“What are you making?” Victor asks.

“Hot chocolate. Your mother’s recipe.” He pauses as he takes a whiff of the steam rising from the pot, then clicks off the flame and grabs two mugs from the cupboard above his head. “I don’t know if you remember, but she always made this for you when you were little.”

Victor glances down at his hands and frowns. “No, I don’t remember.”

Yakov sighs and pads over to where Victor is lounging. “I’m not surprised; you were so young.” He hands a mug over to Victor, who takes it with a mumbled thanks. The warmth soaks into him, and the sweet aroma of vanilla and chocolate soothes him a bit.

“Well?” Yakov says as he takes a seat next to Victor. “You wanted to talk, yes?”

Victor places his hot chocolate on the coffee table in front of him and cradles the mug between his hands, taking a tentative sip. “What if he doesn’t come back, Yakov?” Victor whispers. “What if I never hear from him again?”

“Do you really think Yuuri would do that?” Yakov asks.

Victor leans back into the couch and kicks one foot up on the table. “No, not really. But… after everything that happened—”

“Vitya,” Yakov interjects. “I can’t speak to what Yuuri will do, but if there is anything I’ve learned over these past few years it’s that boy loves you.” He lays a hand on Victor’s shoulder and looks him in the eye. “Your meeting with King JJ is not for a few days. If you’re that worried, go to him.”

Victor raises an eyebrow. “Are you suggesting I fly to Hasetsu?”

Yakov shrugs. “If you want to talk to Yuuri, that may be the only way to reach him.”

He ducks his head. “He asked for his space, though. What if I get there and he doesn’t want to see me?”

“Then you come home, respect his wishes. But at some point he has to give you an answer, one way or another.”

Victor hums and takes another sip of his drink as his mind drifts. Flying to Hasetsu, seeing Yuuri face to face and talking? There’s nothing Victor wants more. But that’s just the thing: that’s what _Victor_ wants. Who knows if Yuuri is ready to talk yet? Who knows what he’s going through back in Hasetsu? He can’t just barge into that. But what if Yuuri withdraws forever? What if he never comes back for his favorite t-shirt, or doesn’t say goodbye to Yuri, or forgets about Victor entirely?

It’s all so messy.

“You don’t need to decide tonight,” Yakov reminds him, “but I wouldn’t let this go on much longer.”

Victor chugs the rest of his drink and gets up from the couch. “I’ll get some rest and think about it. Thank you, Yakov.”

“Vitya,” Yakov interrupts when he sees Victor moving towards the door.

Victor looks over his shoulder and raises an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

Yakov turns his gaze to the ground and says, “You deserve to be happy. Remember that.”

At those words, warmth blooms in Victor’s chest and tears spring to his eyes. “I will.”

“You better get going before the rain picks up again,” says Yakov, waving towards the entrance. “Don’t want to get soaked through.”

A clap of thunder rumbles outside, and Victor pulls his lips up into a tiny smile as he grabs his umbrella. “A little late for that, but I’ll try. Have a nice night, Yakov.”

Yakov nods. “You too, Vitya.”

He may be under an umbrella, but it does little to protect him from the pounding rain and gusting wind. By the time he reaches the castle’s entrance he’s beyond soaked, shivering as he steps inside. Everything is dark, and down the hall he can see a castle worker lighting the ancient candelabras that are attached to the walls.

 _Power must be out,_ Victor thinks. _Just perfect_.

Sighing, Victor brushes the wet hair from his eyes as he walks the familiar path to his room. Lightning bursts outside the large windows, followed by cracks of thunder that make him jump ten feet in the air. He can’t help it; he’s always _loathed_ thunderstorms, ever since he was a kid, and walking through the dark hallways isn’t doing anything for his blood pressure.

Yet he manages to make it back to his room in one piece. It’s funny, he almost sighs in relief when he walks up to his familiar bedroom door. It’s a sign of peace, of finally getting to relax after a long day. And if there is anything Victor needs right now it is a long, quiet night alone.

But that is not what he gets.

When he opens the door, he’s not met with darkness like he was expecting. Instead his room is filled with the buttery, warm glow of candlelight, contrasting with the flashes of lightning from outside. The door to his bathroom is cracked open, which is odd; he knows he closed it before he left.

“Mila? Is that you?” Victor calls out as he wanders toward the door, holding his umbrella in two hands like a bat. Cautiously, he pulls open the door… and gasps.

Standing there in the middle of his bathroom, wrapped in one of Victor’s robes and standing by a pile of wet clothes is the man who has taught Victor about life and love, who is Victor’s everything… who broke his heart.

“Yuuri?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, thank you to everyone who took the time to read this fic! It's finally over and I'm so glad that I got the chance to enter the WIL world once again. Sorry for the few weeks between the last update and this one! Things got busy with the summer class I'm taking and I didn't have time to sit down and finish off this fic. I do hope that you all enjoy the ending! It's been really fun responding to comments about this fic, and I can't wait to write more fic (after I take a quick break to finish off this summer class and read other people's fics!)
> 
> Love y'all!

_Oh no. This is it. I’m seeing things. This can’t be real this can’t be real this can’t be re—_

“Victor? You’re shaking,” Yuuri whispers, then crosses this distance between them to lay a hand on Victor’s forehead. 

It’s then, and only then, that Victor comes to his senses. Yuuri isn’t some vision; he’s _here_ for real, standing in front of him and checking his temperature just like he used to when Victor overworked himself. He’s here, looking at Victor with doe eyes, blush creeping up his cheeks the longer his skin touches Victor’s. 

He’s _here_. 

“Yuuri?” Victor asks again. 

Yuuri blushes even deeper before him and stumbles backwards. “Yeah, it’s me. Can we, uh... talk?” 

“Of course,” Victor says, then glances down at the still-soaked clothes he’s wearing. “Mind if I change first?” 

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Yuuri says quietly. 

Victor nods. “I’ll be right back.”

As Yuuri takes a seat on Victor’s bed, Victor walks over to his closet and steps inside, letting the heavy door close behind him. He goes to grab a shirt from one of the drawers, but his hand stops mid-air as the past five minutes crashes down upon him. 

Yuuri’s _here_. He wants to _talk_. What will he possibly say? Does he regret running away? Does he want to come back? Or is this it, the moment when Yuuri breaks up with him and the last three years turn to dust at his feet? All of those thoughts and more run through his mind, twirling and teasing and making his heart race. What is said tonight could change his entire life forever. Is he ready for that? 

“Victor? Are you okay?” 

_Now or never._

He quickly peels off his wet clothes and replaces them with a pair of sweatpants and one of his favorite t-shirts. After grabbing a towel from the rack and doing his best to squeeze the wetness out of his hair, Victor emerges from the closet and wanders over to where Yuuri is sitting, hair beginning to stick up in all directions as it dries. He climbs onto the bed and sits cross-legged in front of Yuuri, looking at him expectantly.

“Yuuri—”

“Please, let… let me go first,” Yuuri manages to get out with a shaking voice. He steadies himself, placing his hands against the bed edge of the bed and taking a deep breath. “This has been the worst week of my life. I went back to Hasetsu and was completely useless. I could barely eat, I didn’t want to do anything,” he pauses and glances away. “Even Phichit coming to visit didn’t cheer me up. All I could do was lay there and… think about how much I hated being away from you.” 

Yuuri blinks back a tear from his eye. There’s nothing more Victor wants in that moment than to reach over, pull Yuuri close so he can cry into his chest, but he doesn’t. Yuuri still hasn’t really said what he wants, and Lord knows the last thing they need is a misunderstanding right now. So instead, he watches Yuuri pull his legs up onto the bed and tuck them against his chest, letting his tears wet the fabric of his pants. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Vitya, but I was so scared and I didn’t know what else to do.”

Victor leans back onto his hands and lets his hair fall into his eyes. “Yuuri, what happened was terrifying, but we could’ve worked it out together. We’re a team, aren’t we?” 

“Of course, but,” he sighs and glances up at Victor from under his lashes, “when I get anxious, my first instinct is to fight on my own. It’s just the way it’s always been.” He pauses. “But this past week made one thing really clear.”

“And? What’s that?” Victor asks. 

Yuuri takes another deep breath, then reaches forward to grab Victor’s hand in his own. “I don’t want to fight alone anymore, Vitya. I want _you_ and everything that comes with it, the good and the bad.” He glances up, catches Victor’s gaze, and holds it as he says the words Victor’s been wanting to hear for so long now. “No more running away. If things go wrong, we’ll fix them. Together, because I love y— Vitya!” 

Victor laughs as he tackles Yuuri to the bed and wraps his arms around him, letting his face nuzzle into Yuuri’s neck. There may be a storm brewing outside, rain pounding so hard it echoes throughout the room, but in this space, this moment, everything is bright. His glass heart is put back together once again, piece by piece. 

And it’s in that moment that Victor realizes… the candles, the rain, Yuuri’s warm body next to him? This is everything he’s wanted, everything he’s been waiting for. 

Which means… 

“Stay right there,” Victor says as he rolls over to the other side of the bed and gets up. “I mean it, don’t move!” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Yuuri says with a laugh, then pushes himself up into a sitting position. “Really.” 

Victor smiles at him briefly before making his way over to the closet once again. He rummages around for all of five seconds before he finds that familiar box tucked away behind a stack of t-shirts, and when he flicks it open, the ring is right where he left it, gold and glittering. Victor takes it out of the box and wraps it in his hand, then walks back out into the candlelit room where Yuuri still sits, soft smile dancing across his lips. 

“Yuuri,” Victor begins as he makes his way over to the bed and takes a seat next to his lover. “There’s something I need to say to you.” 

Yuuri’s tiny smile grows bigger. “Oh, really?” 

“Yes, really,” Victor says with a laugh. “It’s just… all my life, I wondered if I’d ever find someone who could see me for _me_. And I almost gave up, I thought I would be alone forever… but then I met you. Beautiful, amazing, _you_. I learned about life and love with you in ways I never thought I could before.” He lets the hand not holding the ring reach up to Yuuri’s face and cradles his cheek, heart bursting when Yuuri leans into his touch. “I love you more than I can say, so… guess I’ll have to show you how much I love you instead.” 

If Victor’s nerves weren’t racing enough earlier, they pick up double when he opens his hand and reveals the ring to Yuuri. In the candlelight, it looks truly gorgeous, glinting beautifully against the dim light. Yuuri gasps, and Victor takes that as the cue to climb off of the bed, slide down to one knee, and say the words he’s been aching to speak for weeks now. 

“Yuuri, my love, will you marry me?” 

Yuuri’s eyes fill up with tears and spill over, running down his cheeks like a river. “Is this really happening?” Yuuri asks with a laugh. 

Victor cracks one of his heart-shaped smiles and nods. “Yes, it is.” 

“...Wow. _Really_ really?” 

“Really.” 

“...Are you su—”

“ _Yuuuuuri_ ,” Victor whines.

“Ah, sorry! I… yes! I love you, yes!”

Victor somehow managed to keep himself in check earlier, but now there’s no holding back tears. They stream down his face as he looks at Yuuri’s beaming grin, drip onto his lips as he carefully pushes the ring onto Yuuri’s finger, leave tracks down his cheeks as he wipes them away and cradles Yuuri’s hand, pressing a featherlight kiss to his _fiancé’s_ knuckles. 

He couldn’t have asked for a better proposal. 

Yuuri pulls away and holds his hand out, examining the ring more closely. “It’s beautiful.”

“It was my father’s,” Victor explains as he gets up from the ground and sits down next to Yuuri. He reaches forward to once again take Yuuri’s hand in his, thumb running over the now warm metal. “He always said that the best years of his life were the ones with my mother.” He quiets, then whispers, “God, he would’ve adored you.” 

Yuuri glances down, then back up to Victor with watery eyes. “I love it. I love you.” 

Victor wipes away the wetness from his own eyes and leans in, brushing his lips against Yuuri’s. “I love you too.” 

It may have only been a week, but it feels like years when Yuuri initiates the kiss. Everything about it is a little messy, a little desperate. Yuuri takes Victor’s face between his hands and nips at his lower lip, tongue slipping inside Victor’s mouth. A moan escapes Victor’s throat, which only drives Yuuri to push Victor back against the bed and climb on top of him. They break apart to laugh and glance at each other, eyes lit up and bright, before meeting together again in a tangle of limbs. Victor can feel the butterflies pummeling his gut, their tempo picking up when Yuuri runs his fingers under Victor’s shirt and explores his too-hot skin, drags his nails over his pecs, back, arms. Goosebumps rise at Yuuri’s touch, and he practically melts when Yuuri’s teeth graze against his neck. It’s then that Victor pants out, “Need you. Please.” 

From there, their tango begins. Clothes are shed, fingers explore skin, lips press against cheeks, collarbones, throats. The thunder is their music and their bed is their stage as they fall into each other. Victor revels in Yuuri’s mouth against his skin, loves the feeling of being consumed. He calls out Yuuri’s name, lets it get lost in the clashes from outside. Yuuri’s body looks gorgeous under the glow of candlelight, moving above him like the most beautiful of dancers. Everything in Victor builds and builds, and builds until it all explodes in a burst of pure pleasure. Yuuri soon follows, and when they’re both sated and worn, they collapse against the bed and hastily clean each other up before cuddling close and tangling their legs together. 

“I missed that,” Yuuri mumbles.

“Mmm, me too,” Victor replies drowsily, already feeling the first tendrils of sleep curling around him. 

Yuuri nuzzles his neck and sighs. “I can’t believe I get to have this,” he gestures to Victor, “for the rest of my life.”

He laughs and leaves a kiss on Yuuri’s forehead. “I know! I never thought it would happen, but now look at me, in the arms of my fiancé, getting ready to plan a wedding.” 

Yuuri shifts next to him and props himself up against the pillows. “About that, how does it all work? Planning a royal wedding and everything.” 

“It’s way more complex than it should be, really,” Victor explains. He sits up next to Yuuri and begins ticking off tasks on his fingers. “First, we’ll have to announce the engagement, then we’ll have to go to at least a hundred or so interviews, create a massively large guest list, listen to a thousand people whine about how the monarchy is a sham, go to tastings and press conferences and a highly secured rehearsal.” He takes a dramatically deep breath then turns to Yuuri. “Then we get married.” 

Yuuri’s jaw visibly drops. “That sounds complicated.” 

“Oh trust me, it is,” Victor says, then sighs. “If I had my way, I’d skip all of it, marry you tomorrow if I could.” 

He expects Yuuri to laugh, say that it’s impossible, but he doesn’t. Instead, he goes quiet, looks out the window, and says, “Let’s do it.”

“What?!” Victor exclaims. “We can’t do that!” 

“Why not?” Yuuri asks. He turns towards Victor with fire in his eyes and says fervently, “We can fly to Hastseu, get married on the beach. Phichit was staying there for a few more days anyways, it won’t take a lot to convince Mila to come, and you know she can work her magic and get everyone else on board.” He puts his hands on Victor’s and holds them tight. “We can still have a wedding here, with all the publicity and tradition and glitz, but I don’t want to wait another year to marry you, Vitya. Do you?”

“No, of course not,” Victor whispers back, “but—”

“But what?”

Victor pauses. But what? What is holding Victor back from doing this? Tradition? He tossed half of Glacia’s old, outdated policy out the window when he took over; tradition isn’t all that important to him. His people? They’ll still have a public wedding, and don’t him and Yuuri both deserve to have one moment out of the public eye? Yakov? That very well could be a problem, he can’t exactly see the man agreeing to something this whimsical outright, but he’s not the boss of Victor’s life, no matter how long he’s been in it. 

There’s no reason why he can’t do this. 

Victor looks at Yuuri and flashes the brightest of grins at him. “When do we leave?”

*****

As Victor steps onto the warm sand of Hasetsu’s beach, he wonders how on earth he ended up here. Just yesterday he was nursing a broken heart and today he’s getting married? It seems impossible, like something out of a fairytale. 

But it’s not impossible. It’s _real_. 

That becomes oh so evident when Victor takes his place at the shore’s edge and looks over the small group in front of him. The Nishigoris, Mari, Yuri, Otabek, Georgi, Yuuri’s parents, Chris and Matthieu, even Makkachin are all seated on wooden benches, decorated with little white flowers and mini paper lanterns. Mila, looking stunning in a kimono she borrowed from Mari, stands next to him, tall and proud, while Phichit walks in from the side, beaming as bright as the setting sun behind them. 

A soft serenade of violins drifts from Yuuko’s phone, and Victor feels himself intake a breath. It’s a sign clear as day that Yuuri is close, so he glances left, right, desperate to find—

“Hi.” 

Victor nearly jumps when he hears the voice, but calms once he turns. Yuuri looks stunningin his black and gold yukata, a perfect compliment to the white one Victor is in. His hair is perfectly slicked back and against the sky’s pink glow, he’s ethereal. 

“Wow,” Victor whispers. “You look amazing.” 

Yuuri giggles. “Me? What about you?” He gestures to Victor and says, “You should wear this more often.” 

Victor sighs and looks at Yuuri with wide, adoring eyes. “I can’t believe this is happening.” 

“Me neither,” Yuuri says. “Almost doesn’t feel real, right?”

“It won’t be if you two don’t hurry up. We’re losing daylight!” Yakov mumbles behind them. 

Victor stands up a bit straighter at Yakov’s voice and mutters, “Sorry, Yakov. Go on.” 

Yakov grunts and mumbles something unintelligible under his breath before he clears his throat and begins. “I’ve known Vitya since the day he was born. I was there when Vitya took his first steps, when he said his first words, had his first triumph, and his first failure too. I watched him grow from a prince with no cares to a king who had to care about everything. And after being by his side for all of this time, I thought I knew every side of him. But then Vitya met Yuuri, and suddenly I saw a side of Vitya I’d never seen before: unapologetic joy.” He lays a hand on Yuuri’s upper arm, then does the same for Victor. “The love that I see every day from you two reminds me so much of the love I saw between your parents, Vitya. I know that if your love is anything like theirs, it will not only stand the test of time, but will last forever.” 

He can’t help it: tears spring to his eyes and Victor doesn’t even try to wipe them away. “Thank you, Yakov,” he says in a broken whisper. 

Yakov gives him one of his rare, full smiles and lets go of them both. “I want nothing but the best for you two, so I guess it’s time to say some vows, yes?” He takes a step back and says, “You first, Yuuri.” 

Yuuri nods and reaches into his yukata, pulling out a tiny sheet of paper. He glances at it for all of five seconds before he puts it back and takes a deep breath. He takes Victor’s hand and holds it tight. “I thought long and hard about what I’d say when we got married, but nothing ever really felt right. What I feel for you is so big, I don’t know if I can express it in words. But I’ll try. 

“Vitya, when you came into my life, I knew right away that you were someone I needed to hold on to. You swept me off my feet, took me to places I never could’ve reached on my own. You’re my everything. I love you, and I vow to love you until the end of time.” 

Victor blinks back the tears in his eyes. There’s so much he wants to say, but now none of it feels grand enough to express everything that he feels. But he has to try. “Yuuri, you taught me what life and love can be, and for that I cannot thank you enough. You’re my rock, the one who is there for me through everything. My love, you are the best thing in my life, and I vow to love you for now and forevermore.” 

Yuuri’s hands tighten on his and tears run down his cheeks. “I love you,” he whispers. 

Victor squeezes their entwined hands. “I love you, too.” 

And with that, Yakov prompts them for the ring exchange. Yuuri goes first, grabbing a golden band from Phichit that he admits to picking out ages ago, and slides it onto Victor’s finger as he says his “I do’s.” The weight feels just right, and his heart grows three sizes when Yuuri brings his hands up to his lips and leaves a featherlight kiss on Victor’s newly adorned finger. 

Victor follows. Yuuri gave back his engagement ring for the sake of a “proper” ceremony, which Victor doesn’t mind one bit. Sliding that ring onto Yuuri’s finger gives him the same thrill as it did the night before, and just as Yuuri did to him, he also leaves a quick kiss on his ring before letting their hands fall. 

If there was a dry eye in the house, it’s gone by the time the ring ceremony is over. Victor quickly looks out into the audience and sees everyone with tear-stained faces. Even Yuri is a mess in the front row, clinging onto Otabek as he holds back tears. 

“Vitya and Yuuri,” Yakov says, “you both have vowed to love each other for now and forever. Therefore, it is my honor to pronounce you married.” He smiles at Victor. “You may kiss the groom.” 

Victor doesn’t need an invitation for that. Before Yakov’s even finished, he pulls Yuuri toward him and into a kiss, relishing in the feel of Yuuri’s lips against his and the whoops from their family and friends (and they’re nearly bowled over when Makka runs off of her perch and jumps up on them both). When they make their way down the makeshift aisle and wander away from the crowd, Victor is walking on clouds. 

They did it. He’s _married_. 

“I have a little surprise for you, Mr. Nikiforov-Katsuki,” Yuuri teases as he loops his arm through Victor’s and guides them towards the water’s edge. 

Victor glances over at him and smirks. “Oh, I like the sound of that. Forget Your Majesty. Mr. Victor Nikiforov-Katsuki is _much_ better.” 

Yuuri laughs and picks up their pace, dragging Victor along. “C’mon, we gotta be quick.” 

Victor doesn’t ask any questions, he just follows Yuuri towards the shore, letting his bare feet dip into the wet sand as they go further and further down the beach. In the distance he can see light, and when they get closer, Victor audibly gasps when he finds out what is awaiting them. 

“Lanterns?” Victor asks. 

Yuuri brings them to a stop and lets go, grabbing an unlit one from the ground. “When we lit those lanterns all those years ago, remember what I told you?”

“You said we can’t tell each other our wishes or else they won’t come true,” he says. 

“Exactly. I didn’t tell you what I wished for back then because I wanted it so badly. And I was right,” he takes a step into Victor’s space, presses a kiss against his cheek. “I didn’t tell you, and I got my wish.” 

“Oh really? And what’s that?”

Yuuri smiles and drags his toe through the wet sand. “I wished that we could be together, even though it felt impossible.” 

Victor’s heard a lot of things over the years that have brought him to his knees, but this is the most precious of them all. Yuuri knew that he wanted to be with him all the way back then? Victor wasn’t the only one who fell fast and hard that day? 

“I know now it probably seems silly but—”

“Oh no, it’s not silly at all! Yuuri, you know what I wished that day?” he lets his fingers brush over Yuuri’s cheek. “I wished that I’d enjoy the time I had with you while it lasted, because I wanted nothing more than to be with you.” 

Yuuri starts at that. “...Really?”

Victor laughs and grins. “Yes, really. I was trying to think of any reason I could to stay with you.” 

“I… uh… wow,” he stammers, a blush lighting up his face. “I guess we both got what we wanted, huh?”

Victor smiles and points at the lantern in Yuuri’s hand. “Can we light one? Together?”

Yuuri smiles back and grabs a lighter from its place on the ground. “I’d love to.” 

They make their way towards the water, hips knocking into each other as they go. The sun is almost gone, stars beginning to light up the dark. Yuuri hands Victor the lantern while he holds the lighter, and the two glance out over the ocean before Yuuri sparks a flame to life. 

“Wait!” Victor exclaims. “Don’t we need to write wishes in it first before we send it off?”

Yuuri pauses and shakes his head. “I don’t need a wish,” he says, then looks at Victor with those huge, loving eyes of his. “I have you.” 

For the thousandth time that day, Victor feels tears appearing in his eyes. He doesn’t try to hold them back as Yuuri relights the flame and ignites the fire. Instead, he lets them fall as he watches as their lantern picks up the wind and take off, floating above the water before flying into the night. 

It’s beautiful, and everything that he could’ve asked for. 

“We should get back,” Yuuri says after the lantern is but a dot in the sky. “Don’t want to miss our reception, do we?” 

Part of Victor reallywants to miss that reception, wants to suspend this moment in time and never let it fade. He wants to lay back on the sand with Yuuri in his arms, counting the stars until the sun comes up. He wants to kiss Yuuri slow and steady, relish in the warm metal of their newly adorned rings brushing against the other’s skin. He wants Yuuri, only Yuuri. They could just lay here all night, not go back. 

But Yuuri, is, of course, the reasonable one and sees through him right away. “I know, I want to just be alone too, but we have to go back, Vitya,” he says with a tiny smile. “Mari will come track us down if we don’t.” 

“I wish you weren’t right,” Victor acquiesces, pushing his lips into a thin line. 

Yuuri knocks his hip against Victor’s and takes his hand. “C’mon, it’ll be fun. Lots of food, dancing, drinking. And I’m positive I can convince Phichit to take over if Mila busts out her bad electro-pop.” 

Victor comically shudders at that and shakes his head. “If she breaks out any of her playlists she’s fired,” he jokes. 

“Then I promise we’ll keep her distracted.” He pulls Victor forward and raises an eyebrow. “Ready to go?” 

Victor gestures towards the party. “After you.” 

As they walk in silence, Victor's mind wanders back to their ups and downs, and everything in-between; goes all the way back to that first day, when Yuuri lit up before him and Victor knew that he was about to fall fast and hard. He can still imagine Yuuri pulling him along the ice, teaching him about how to keep his balance; can still imagine the beach their first date on this very beach, where he knew beyond a doubt that the man next to him was special. He goes over their ups and downs, because all of it has led them here: to this night, walking hand in hand with matching rings on their fingers. 

And it’s in this moment that Victor knows it. The road wasn’t always easy, filled with botched proposals, pushy citizens, social media meltdowns, and even a breakup, but despite it all?

He wouldn’t change a thing. 


End file.
